A hazy fog swept across the interior of the Sogong-ro Arcade, periodically illuminated by the flashing colors of the victory screens on nearby arcade machines. Waterfalls of digital coins congratulated the gamers, the synthetic sounds of pocket change drowned out only by the humming conversation of the arcade’s patrons. Twirling a finger around the edge of her glass, Haebin sat with one of her coworkers at the far end of the arcade’s lounge area, body sprawled gracefully across a red velvet loveseat.
“Are you even listening to me?”
As a hand waved in front of her face, Haebin snapped her out of her daydream. Straightening herself in her seat, she ran a hand through her hair with an apologetic smile. “Sorry, Yumi. What were we talking about, again?”
The blonde across the table rolled her eyes. “God, it’s like you’re not even here tonight!” Leaning closer, Yumi raised an eyebrow. “You’re not sleeping with someone new, are you? ‘Cause if you are, you’d better tell me who—” She dodged Haebin’s palm with a mischievous grin. “Hey, I’m just checking!” With a glance over her shoulder, she added, “Better that you’re not, actually, ‘cause that guy’s been giving you the eyes all night.”
Haebin’s gaze drifted past Yumi’s smirking face. Through the smoke, it was difficult to make out anyone’s face, but in the pulses of color, she could see the vague outline of a man sitting alone in the corner of the room, blinking in and out of existence. With a sigh, Haebin turned her attention back to Yumi, unamused. “He’s wearing khakis.”
Yumi laughed, taking a swig of her drink. “Oh, you can’t let that stop you! Who knows what’s under those khakis?” Before Haebin had a chance to react, Yumi shoved her shoulder lightly. “C’mon, Haebin, he’s kind of cute. What’ve you got to lose?”
Rolling her eyes, Haebin downed the rest of her cocktail, shaking her head a bit as the harsh taste of settled vodka hit her tongue. “I’m only doing this to shut you up.”
With an enthusiastic thumbs up from Yumi, Haebin made her way to the man’s secluded table. Unobscured by the haze of the arcade, he was rather handsome—shaggy, dark hair framed a square jaw, and a thin pair of tortoiseshell glasses sat on the bridge of his nose. He had been scribbling something in a small, leather-bound journal, but as she approached him, he tucked it beneath his folded arms, blocking her view of whatever he was writing.
“Something I can help you with?”
Haebin bowed her head politely, an exhausted smile on her face as she spoke. “I’m really sorry, but my friend wouldn’t shut up until I came over here to talk to you because she thinks you’ve been checking me out. If you could just pretend we’re having a great conversation and then give me your number so she stops asking me about you, that’d be great.”
The man raised an eyebrow, smirking. “I’m flattered. Are your pick-up lines always so forward?”
“You know it.”
“Well in that case,” he said, tearing a strip of paper from his journal, “I will gladly play along.” As he began writing, he glanced up at Haebin over the edge of his glasses. “This might be a stupid question, but you’re not BinThereDoneThat, are you?”
“I might be,” Haebin said after a moment of hesitation, “why do you ask?”
“You were kicking my ass at holoracing for at least an hour,” the man answered with a laugh. “I’m JiangLiHan—or I mean, Jiang-Li. That’s my real name.”
Haebin smirked. “Awfully clever username for someone who isn’t Korean,” she said, taking the folded piece of paper from Jiang-Li’s hand. He nodded, shrugging his shoulders.
“I adapt well.”
“Clearly. And it’s Haebin, by the way.”
“Well, well,” Jiang-Li cooed, “looks like I’m not the only clever one here.” Glancing briefly across the room to where someone was blatantly watching them, he gestured to the seat across the table. “Care to sit for a few minutes?”
Haebin followed his gaze, cringing as she spotted Yumi nearly falling off of her chair in an attempt to get a better look at them. With a sigh, she nodded and settled down across from Jiang-Li, leaning forward, her elbows resting on the dark wood.
“Just so you know, I wasn’t checking you out,” he said abruptly.
“Wow, thanks,” Haebin said with a grin, “just what ever girl wants to hear.”
Jiang-Li raised his hands defensively, smirking again. “No, no, that’s not what I meant. I just—you work at CloudStorm, don’t you?”
Immediately, Haebin pulled back, face twisted in sudden disgust. “Oh, god, what are you, some kind of stalker from the Hives?”
“No, no, no, nothing like that! I swear.” Jiang-Li leaned in closer, his voice barely above a whisper. “I’m a journalist, actually, and I’ve heard some...rumors about how CloudStorm treats their female employees.” He pulled his journal out from under his arms, opening the pages towards Haebin. “I’m working on a piece for the datastream, and if you’re willing, I’d love to ask you a few—”
“If I wanted to talk about work, I wouldn’t be here,” Haebin snapped, standing up and turning to leave. “Sorry to bother you.”
“I can make it worth your while.”
There was a moment of hesitation as Haebin weighed her options, biting her lip. Were it not for the desperation in his voice, she would’ve just walked away, but something deep within her wouldn’t let her move. Slowly, she turned to face him, an eyebrow raised. “Start talking.”
“Look, I know CloudStorm requires their employees to be a part of the Brainstorm community. As long as you’ve got the chip, I’ve got something you want.” Jiang-Li pulled a small, plastic bag out of his pocket, passing it across the table to Haebin. As she examined the nearly microscopic chip within the bag, she shook her head.
“What is this, just another wireless chip?”
“Far from it,” Jiang-Li said. “It’s an admin module for Brainstorm. This thing would give you limitless potential in the cloud. Endless power. And that can be yours,” he paused, taking the bag back with a grin, “if you just help me out.”
Haebin leaned back in her seat, skeptical. “Are you saying that I can expose my company’s misogyny, maintain my anonymity, and you’re going to give me Brainstorm admin privileges?”
Jiang-Li smiled widely, leaning across the table, his head resting in his hands. A flash of color lit his face for a brief moment, and Haebin swore there was something almost sinister about the way he was looking at her now. An automated cry of, “Jackpot, congratulations! Jackpot, congratulations!” filled the silence between them as they studied one another. As another burst of color lit the two of them, Haebin extended her hand across the table, which Jiang-Li took eagerly.
“Are you even listening to me?”
As a hand waved in front of her face, Haebin snapped her out of her daydream. Straightening herself in her seat, she ran a hand through her hair with an apologetic smile. “Sorry, Yumi. What were we talking about, again?”
The blonde across the table rolled her eyes. “God, it’s like you’re not even here tonight!” Leaning closer, Yumi raised an eyebrow. “You’re not sleeping with someone new, are you? ‘Cause if you are, you’d better tell me who—” She dodged Haebin’s palm with a mischievous grin. “Hey, I’m just checking!” With a glance over her shoulder, she added, “Better that you’re not, actually, ‘cause that guy’s been giving you the eyes all night.”
Haebin’s gaze drifted past Yumi’s smirking face. Through the smoke, it was difficult to make out anyone’s face, but in the pulses of color, she could see the vague outline of a man sitting alone in the corner of the room, blinking in and out of existence. With a sigh, Haebin turned her attention back to Yumi, unamused. “He’s wearing khakis.”
Yumi laughed, taking a swig of her drink. “Oh, you can’t let that stop you! Who knows what’s under those khakis?” Before Haebin had a chance to react, Yumi shoved her shoulder lightly. “C’mon, Haebin, he’s kind of cute. What’ve you got to lose?”
Rolling her eyes, Haebin downed the rest of her cocktail, shaking her head a bit as the harsh taste of settled vodka hit her tongue. “I’m only doing this to shut you up.”
With an enthusiastic thumbs up from Yumi, Haebin made her way to the man’s secluded table. Unobscured by the haze of the arcade, he was rather handsome—shaggy, dark hair framed a square jaw, and a thin pair of tortoiseshell glasses sat on the bridge of his nose. He had been scribbling something in a small, leather-bound journal, but as she approached him, he tucked it beneath his folded arms, blocking her view of whatever he was writing.
“Something I can help you with?”
Haebin bowed her head politely, an exhausted smile on her face as she spoke. “I’m really sorry, but my friend wouldn’t shut up until I came over here to talk to you because she thinks you’ve been checking me out. If you could just pretend we’re having a great conversation and then give me your number so she stops asking me about you, that’d be great.”
The man raised an eyebrow, smirking. “I’m flattered. Are your pick-up lines always so forward?”
“You know it.”
“Well in that case,” he said, tearing a strip of paper from his journal, “I will gladly play along.” As he began writing, he glanced up at Haebin over the edge of his glasses. “This might be a stupid question, but you’re not BinThereDoneThat, are you?”
“I might be,” Haebin said after a moment of hesitation, “why do you ask?”
“You were kicking my ass at holoracing for at least an hour,” the man answered with a laugh. “I’m JiangLiHan—or I mean, Jiang-Li. That’s my real name.”
Haebin smirked. “Awfully clever username for someone who isn’t Korean,” she said, taking the folded piece of paper from Jiang-Li’s hand. He nodded, shrugging his shoulders.
“I adapt well.”
“Clearly. And it’s Haebin, by the way.”
“Well, well,” Jiang-Li cooed, “looks like I’m not the only clever one here.” Glancing briefly across the room to where someone was blatantly watching them, he gestured to the seat across the table. “Care to sit for a few minutes?”
Haebin followed his gaze, cringing as she spotted Yumi nearly falling off of her chair in an attempt to get a better look at them. With a sigh, she nodded and settled down across from Jiang-Li, leaning forward, her elbows resting on the dark wood.
“Just so you know, I wasn’t checking you out,” he said abruptly.
“Wow, thanks,” Haebin said with a grin, “just what ever girl wants to hear.”
Jiang-Li raised his hands defensively, smirking again. “No, no, that’s not what I meant. I just—you work at CloudStorm, don’t you?”
Immediately, Haebin pulled back, face twisted in sudden disgust. “Oh, god, what are you, some kind of stalker from the Hives?”
“No, no, no, nothing like that! I swear.” Jiang-Li leaned in closer, his voice barely above a whisper. “I’m a journalist, actually, and I’ve heard some...rumors about how CloudStorm treats their female employees.” He pulled his journal out from under his arms, opening the pages towards Haebin. “I’m working on a piece for the datastream, and if you’re willing, I’d love to ask you a few—”
“If I wanted to talk about work, I wouldn’t be here,” Haebin snapped, standing up and turning to leave. “Sorry to bother you.”
“I can make it worth your while.”
There was a moment of hesitation as Haebin weighed her options, biting her lip. Were it not for the desperation in his voice, she would’ve just walked away, but something deep within her wouldn’t let her move. Slowly, she turned to face him, an eyebrow raised. “Start talking.”
“Look, I know CloudStorm requires their employees to be a part of the Brainstorm community. As long as you’ve got the chip, I’ve got something you want.” Jiang-Li pulled a small, plastic bag out of his pocket, passing it across the table to Haebin. As she examined the nearly microscopic chip within the bag, she shook her head.
“What is this, just another wireless chip?”
“Far from it,” Jiang-Li said. “It’s an admin module for Brainstorm. This thing would give you limitless potential in the cloud. Endless power. And that can be yours,” he paused, taking the bag back with a grin, “if you just help me out.”
Haebin leaned back in her seat, skeptical. “Are you saying that I can expose my company’s misogyny, maintain my anonymity, and you’re going to give me Brainstorm admin privileges?”
Jiang-Li smiled widely, leaning across the table, his head resting in his hands. A flash of color lit his face for a brief moment, and Haebin swore there was something almost sinister about the way he was looking at her now. An automated cry of, “Jackpot, congratulations! Jackpot, congratulations!” filled the silence between them as they studied one another. As another burst of color lit the two of them, Haebin extended her hand across the table, which Jiang-Li took eagerly.
“Smart girl.”